Comfort in Lovemaking
by androgynous SAPIENS
Summary: Takaba woke up from a dream of his rape five months ago, only to find himself staring at the same darkness as that miserable time. The young man shed tears, though no worries there should be, he was safe with Asami being next to him. Warning: smut.
1. Chapter 1

_Takaba couldn't recall why exactly he was left in the end of a dark alleyway, which boisterous hectic of Tokyo didn't even reach. It felt dazing. Was it moon or the sun that hung up in the sky? Was it dark because the shades or was it nightfall? He couldn't presume._

_The vision in his eyes was nothing more than a blur, like an abstract on canvas. El Chezier was he? He remembered dimly. That name sounded familiar, it passed around in his head, though the memory refused to surface completely. Who was that man? No. Wasn't man. There were men. Men surrounding him, all over him, on top of him, and to his horror: inside of him._

_The young man's eyes shot open. His vision cleared suddenly due to the fast realization that kicked. He became aware of how his arms were shackled by chains to a thick steel light post. Takaba's breaths started to went erratic. He tossed his head to his sides, he flailed around, trying to get free, yet all his actions only added pain to his rear. As the pain seared from his coccyx, Takaba winced and grunted. He looked down to the cement and found blood smeared around him. His eyes widened._

_"No...," he sobbed. "NO! IMPOSSIBLE!"_

_He had been raped. Not only by one man called El Chezier, but with four, or was it five men? Barely thinking about it made Takaba vomit. His ripped clothes held no protection against the low temperature. He was trembling, his muscles contracting achingly. Takaba grudgingly dreaded demise, but being as he was, somehow he doubted safety would come near. Maybe he'd die from hypothermia, or probably from not being found by anyone and left there to die with an infection. Or maybe, the worst scenario, those rapists would come back and kill him. Slowly._

_He cried. He sobbed. He even screamed._

_Desperation hit him hard. Takaba held his head lowly, he waited for days to see if anyone would ever come. The longer he waited, the less energy he stored in that wounded body. His fear was true. The young man was sure he had an infection on day three since his wake. His wounds were swollen now, he felt even colder than before, his lips dry, and his head throbbed._

_God. Was it his fate to die like this?_

Dark. Again.

Why did it have to always be?

It was dark when he woke up in that alley.

And now it was also dark in here...

Why did it always have to be?

Takaba had woken from his dream. It was a dream of that inhumane rape he experienced five months ago. That man, El Chezier, another bastard he met at work harassed him along with his mates. Takaba didn't really remember how was the rape, but he remembered how was the aftermath. The suffering.

No. He'd never want to have to go through it again. Ever.

He rose from the bed. The dark room hiding Asami's form that was sleeping next to him. Takaba put his head in his hands and cried quietly. Those wounds and his infection had healed, but his mental still needed recovery. It hurted him bad. However many times he assured himself that he was now safe with his lover, he still felt that hatred. Hatred toward himself for letting those dirty hands touched him.

"Ugh," another feeling of nausea crept up at his abdomen. It had been like this these past few months, he'd get the urge to vomit whenever the remembrance hit.

Curling his body, Takaba began to sob quietly, careful not to wake the older man from his slumber. Though that was pointless.

"Akihito?"

Takaba didn't respond the call. It became a regular for Asami to find him awake in the middle of the night, crying. Asami rose and put a hand on Takaba's shoulder. "Akihito, it's fine," he cooed, almost whispering.

"Asami...," Takaba gagged the word between sobs. "Asami...it felt horrible."

Asami knew exactly what he meant. _The rape_ was horrible. He felt a pang on his chest, had he knew what would happen to Takaba those months ago, he'd never let the young man go on his own. It was a mistake. Asami Ryuichi was a fool, for letting it happened, for letting Takaba suffered those five days in the filthy alley. He'd never consider himself the same ever again.

Takaba lifted his head and stared at nothing. He felt the other circled a hand around his waist and pulled him close. "I know it did," he answered as he moved to embrace Takaba within his arms. "Worry no more. I'm here with you."

Feeling the safety Asami provided, Takaba let himself be cradled in those arms. He nuzzled Asami's neck, smelling the distinctive scent that had become as familiar as his own over the years. "Don't let go," he pleaded to the man.

Asami sighed, "I won't." He let the young man nuzzle his neck and collarbone, letting him do anything he pleaded to feel comfort. As the caresses turned to gropes and grips, Asami made a guttural growl. He knew what the other wanted. Takaba wanted Asami to make love to him, wanted to feel the older man filling him, wanting to feel the heat from this man, to make sure it was Asami; not those rapists.

The yakuza pulled Takaba on his lap. He kissed him slowly, lovingly. Takaba wrapped his legs around Asami, while their mouths molded and groins rubbed. Takaba's moans were muffled in their prolonged kisses, sometimes breaking for a moment to catch breaths before continuing.

"Please...please, Asami," Takaba's plead made Asami's length grew harder. Asami cupped his palms on the young man's rear cheeks, squeezing them heartily, prodding the entrance with one digit.

Their earlier activity before sleeping made no clothes stay plastered to any of their skin, it made everything easier. Asami could see their growing girth magnifying in size by the second. As Asami spread Takaba's cheeks, the young man could feel Asami's semen dripping down. He moaned. Asami thrusted his slender finger inside him. He fiddled with his own cum inside Takaba, smearing the already lose entrance.

Due to their earlier sex, Asami knew he didn't have to prepare him much, but he wanted to make Takaba felt the pleasure as long as possible. Takaba shuddered when Asami slid in three fingers at once. The man pistoned his digits in and out of him repeatedly. The moment the man found his prostate, Takaba arched his back, grazing his arousal against Asami's toned abdomen and slicking it with his glistening precome.

"Asa-unhh," the unfinished call for his name aroused him more. He changed their position so the younger was pinned under his weight. Asami kept massaging Takaba's prostate while the other hand keeping his hips from bucking along. Takaba liked it; the way those fingers would _vibrate_ frequently. Asami kept his actions constant and sent the younger so much closer to the edge.

"I-I'm coming!" Takaba's spine almost arched once more. He almost reached his climax. But Asami deliberately stopped moving his fingers, preventing him orgasm. Takaba panted, he wanted to protest yet Asami moved his fingers in and out again, leaving no room for him to do so.

Thirty minutes passed and Takaba had never even once orgasmed. Almost orgasmed? More than often. This time Asami was nibbling his nipple while fingering him. Takaba's muscles contracted periodically around Asami, he moaned for he was near, yet once more, he was denied the pleasure.

Tired of the tease, Takaba whined for the other to stop vibrating those deliciousness inside him. He started to thrash around, unaware that it only made Asami's finger-grinding more powerful on his prostate. Takaba screamed at the sensation. He could hold back no more. He needed that girth planted inside of him NOW.

"Asami, PLEASE!" He shouted to the other male. Asami smirked at the remark to his actions, he abruptly pulled his fingers out. Takaba whined at the feeling of sudden emptiness, though before he could be grim about it, Asami had replaced the digits with his full length. It was thrusted all the way into his cum-slicked entrance. The movement produced a wet sound which grazed Takaba's ears.

Asami didn't wait a milisecond before he started the pace. He leaned down to nip Takaba's smooth skin. The tightness around his arousal was unbelievable, the moans, the shudder, and the friction that body below him gave added more fuel to his luscious imagination. He went to capture Takaba's parted lips. They kissed passionately while at the same time the older's length plummeted inside and resurfaced again at a remarkable speed.

Their hips moved in sync. Takaba moaned with every thrust, especially that thrust to his prostate. He broke the kiss to scream with pleasure. Asami's bulbous head was hitting it with the right precision and force. Yes. The right force to keep him screaming for release but not coming.

This was going to be a long night. Asami held his hands above his head to prevent him touching himself. The man wanted him to come from his cock only. Hence Asami changed the angle and started to thrust upwards, to the wall of Takaba's rectum, touching an even righter place to bring him pleasure. Asami knew the trick. In the current position he made shallow thrust against the spot, heightening the frequency of contact.

The pleasure was almost overwhelming. Takaba could feel the tip of that organ spearing him nicely. This position would always make him climax with a strong prostate orgasm. He gave himself completely under the control of Asami, trusting the man to bring him the utmost sensation. And that man really did success.

Takaba's walls contracted as he came, spurting semen from the slit of his length. It was like his nerves were blown away with his orgasm, and Asami keeping his length moving all the while didn't help at all. After his semen was spurted out, he was still shuddering like crazy. Somehow Asami managed not to come yet still moving. His oversensitized nerves sent shocks of pleasure that blinded his mind. Asami didn't let him rest from the recent orgasm, instead he let go of those hands he'd been holding and turned to hold Takaba's thigh. He spread them wider and lifted them off the bed to attach Takaba's legs to his shoulder.

Ah, another round.

The movement began again, even wilder this time. The moans that left Takaba's lips was muffled by Asami's kisses. He pushed his tongue inside, probing the cavern as their erratic movement gave another life to Takaba's flaccid length. He wrapped his arms on Asami's neck, having perverted thoughts about how much liquid of his lover's precome had filled him. It was arousing. It was exquisite. And he couldn't be more grateful to be filled by this man. Not by any other bastards. No.

Asami whispered dirty words to his tired lover. They moved together for God knows how long, until Takaba reached his second orgasm, this time taking Asami along with him.

"ASAMI!" They came hard. Asami grasped the sheets beneath them to suppress his groan to a deep, contented sigh. Takaba panted rigorously for a moment before it decreased to slightly ragged breath. He could feel his insides heating up by the cum spurted inside it.

In their afterglow, Takaba hugged Asami tighter. He was glad to feel him so close. He felt safe, and it was all he needed at the moment.

"Don't let me go," he said once more.

Asami chuckled and kissed his lover tenderly, when he broke it, he stared back at Takaba with a genuine protective smile, "I won't."


	2. Chapter 2

Tepid summer afternoon, Takaba was indolently striding by in a park that was a thirty minutes walk from Asami's apartment complex. He took some lazy photographs of trees and even squirrels chased around by kids, not the typical pictures a criminal-chasing photographer would take, really. But everyone need to relax sometimes. Especially on weekend like this.

Takaba was aware of the goon following him in a not so hindering distance away from him. He glanced at the man, not quite sure if he was staring right back at him since his eyes were covered by shades he wore everywhere. "Damn yakuzas," he muttered silently.

Previously, Takaba would never allow himself to be followed around by anyone. He would instantly flee and hide, creating trouble for the goon on duty of babysitting him. He used to not care about their fates once Asami knew they failed. But he did now. Not particularly by that reason, though. He was more worried of himself. If previously he would savor the thrill of the chase and snickered while hiding in dark corners, waiting for the goons to miss him, he now would shiver tremendously if left alone in a dark place, isolated from sights of others. It made him remember some unwelcome memories.

The damned rape.

He swore it made his stomach recoil. His face paled instantly while his palms started to sweat. He couldn't really understood why, but he got a slight panic attack once in every occasion in these last five months. The photographer felt lightheaded at the remembrance. It was _disgusting_.

Takaba walked staggered to a nearby bench, his mind filled with unpleasant playbacks of what had happened when he was tied down and left for dead in that cursed alley. He could feel his breath hitch, he panted irregularly as he covered his face by both hands, repeatedly murmured comforting and reassuring words to himself.

He didn't know when the goon had closed in, but the time he realized it, he was putting a hand on his shoulder, "Are you not feeling well?"

Takaba's paled face turned up to look at the man's shades, trying to find a pair of eyes behind it, though failing. He exhaled and shook his head, a negative response. "I'm not."

"Let's go back to the penthouse," the guard suggested, and Takaba couldn't have agreed more.

The both of them settled on taking a car rather than walking all the way – like they did on the way to the park – to the penthouse. That goon, whose name apparently was Taku, followed him until they reached the penthouse's front door. "If you need anything, I'll be right here," he announced. After nodding, the photographer smiled a grateful smile at him. "Thanks," he said as he walked inside.

Closing the door, Takaba ran to the bathroom and vomited. He emptied his stomach to the core, making him feel far worse afterwards.

He thought he needed some sleep, so he did. He didn't bother changing his clothes into pajamas, simply taking off some that were constricting – abandoning them on the floor – and slid below the covers.

Takaba couldn't even sleep peacefully as he was almost all the time haunted by nightmares no one called for. He went through a recurring process of sleep, then waking up, and then asleep again; not the dreamless rest he had hoped to get. Hours had passed when he woke up that night. The penthouse was dark, indicating that Asami wasn't home yet.

He was alone.

And, hell. It was also dark in there.

Realizing his panic attack approaching, Takaba scrambled to his feet and hit the lights, turning on too many than necessary. As the room lit up, he wiped his face and shook his head. Just when did he turn into a paranoid? This was a safe place. It was Asami's penthouse and he had Taku guarding him outside. He shouldn't worry about a thing.

Yet, he couldn't help it.

Takaba ended up curling on the couch in front of the TV, switching channels and trying to find a show worthy of watching. He was going through some crappy drama series when he stumbled upon a midnight breaking news. Though almost bored at first, his eyes went wide at what was reported on screen.

Elchezier was dead.

Knowing that, he looked intently at the news, almost disbelieving his eyes at what he saw. It took a while for him to take in, but yes, his rapist and party had been murdered. Takaba became silent. He didn't know what feeling was appropriate for him to feel at this. He wanted to feel glad for the men's death, yet his alter ego – the more idealistic one – scold him for feeling such happiness over decease. Should he feel angry for the murderer? But what was more important, did Asami kill them?

As if sensing his thought, suddenly the front door opened, revealing the man of question coming home to his nest. Takaba's chest tightened. He looked at Asami, who raised an eyebrow at the odd gaze he received.

"What are you looking at?"

Takaba snapped out of it, he gulped and stuttered a "Welcome home."

Though knowing something was out of place, Asami proceeded to take off his informal coat and laid it on the couch's back rest, giving a peck on Takaba's lips as he walked straight to his bedroom.

"Asami."

The man turned around to answer the call, "Yes?"

Takaba was about to ask him whether he was involved in the murder or not, but didn't have the courage, so instead, he asked a trivial matter, "Um, uh... How was the opening gala?"

Once more, something was wrong with the younger. "It was merry," he answered simply, hoping that the young man would continue and get his point out, yet Takaba never continued to speak, only looking at him with round eyes.

"What was you going to say?" Asami boldly asked as he walked closer.

Trying to hide his worry was futile, particularly in front of this man. He hesitated slightly, wondering if Asami would get mad if he asked. "Akihito?"

That's it. Fine. He'd ask.

"Did you...kill those men?"

Asami was stoic.

"I did."

Takaba gasped. What should he do? Should he thank him for it? For the crime his lover had commit? This was all making him tense. He could feel his body trembling. The image of Asami putting an end to another's life was unbearable, but that was exactly what he did.

"Why?" He questioned, avoiding eye contact with his lover.

Asami knew he didn't have to answer. He knew the boy had known the reason why, "It's a payback for hurting you," but he still answered, though.

Takaba curled even further on the couch, his eyes closed with a frown on his face. "I'm so sorry," he whispered loud enough for the both of them to hear, "If I didn't get raped by them, you wouldn't have to commit something that bad." Takaba's mouth felt bitter at the word 'rape'.

Asami sighed. He sat next to the boy and embraced him. "Hadn't I told you many times? You're nowhere at fault."

Takaba hugged him back, serving the older man to realize how thinner Takaba had become. He nuzzled his hair, trying to give comfort at the shivering blonde. "Have you eaten dinner?" he asked cautiously, wanting to know if the boy had another panic attack and threw up again.

"No," he answered. "I'm not hungry."

Asami didn't want to argue, if Takaba didn't feel up to eating, he'd let him be. For now, at least.

Takaba nuzzled Asami's shirt, breathing in his musky cologne. The older man reacted to his soft nuzzles by leaning down to kiss him. He nibbled Takaba's lip, sliding his tongue in. The young man moaned into the kiss, quickly climbing Asami's lap and straddling him.

They made it out on the couch, Asami kissed the nape of his neck, biting at his collarbone before opening the boy's shirt and threw it away. He teased his perked nipple, hardened by the exposure to cool air and arousal. As their hip grounded, they kissed again, more desperate this time.

Takaba didn't want to waste his chance. He peeled himself out of his clothes while still sitting on the older man's lap. His half-erect manhood nudged between them, provoking Asami's hand to grab it. He slid his hand up and down, milking precome out of his boy. He moaned lustfully, enjoying the pleasure he was given. It was evident by the moisture leaking out of his slit. Once he was wet, Asami daubed his fingers in Takaba's bodily fluid and used them to spread his entrance.

He added one finger and one more after some period, spreading and massaging gently inside as Takaba clung onto his neck with hot breath huffed out of his lungs. Asami felt his erection strained, so he reached between them to open the zipper, accidentally grazing Takaba's shaft on the process, and as a result, said Takaba moaned next to his ear. It made him shiver with need.

When he managed to tuck his erection out, it was already thick and red, pulsating every second. Asami kissed Takaba and made his way inside at the same time. Takaba moaned loudly into the kiss, not even giving himself a chance to adjust to the thick length before he started to move his hips up and down.

Asami groaned. He pumped in and out of him, all the while treating Takaba's shaft in the same pace as their hips' movement. They hugged, whispering nonsensical words to each other, and drowning deep in pleasure. In Takaba's mind, some flash of images depicting Asami finishing off his rapist were running around, he almost cried for knowing what he had done. Nonetheless, Asami was Asami. That didn't matter right now. All of Takaba's world was orbiting around his manhood – hitting him in all the right places.

Moments passed and Takaba came first, his constricting wall made his lover did right after him. They climaxed with wondrous feeling, for another short moment forgetting every matter in this life. As both came down from their high, both started to realize something. In which Asami wondered if the boy had hated him for committing a crime and Takaba questioned if Asami thought of him as a burden behind his back. But when they see each other's face, full of contentment of each other's presence, and – if the both of them had the humbleness of admitting – _love_, they knew those doubts in their minds were wrong.

In the end, Takaba could only smiled back at the older man.


End file.
